


the death of me

by soggywormcircus



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, i'm blaming it on Owen's messed up mental state though, i'm gonna be honest this is kind of an incoherent mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 19:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21481795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soggywormcircus/pseuds/soggywormcircus
Summary: Falling for Curt had been the easiest thing in the entire world, as simple as breathing.But breathing had been very hard to relearn, and in the end, unknowing Curt had probably been the hardest thing Owen had ever done.
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	the death of me

**Author's Note:**

> i've been thinking about this a lot, so have this mess i've scrambled together on the train this afternoon 
> 
> (btw, while i'm kinda more of a fan of the thought Owen making his own way out of the warehouse and sort of saving his own life, this version worked a little better for the story i wanted to tell.)

Owen wakes up and knows he's dead.

It's the only possible explanation. Why else would nothing hurt, why else would everything around him feel bright and warm and why else would he feel this at ease, this soft, and so content?

Why else would Curt not be with him?

As soon as Owen thinks of Curt, the ease bleeds out of him and leaves nothing but a cold that reaches all the way down into his bones. He doesn't understand why it would feel like that - the fact that Curt isn't here means he isn't dead, he got away. Isn't that a good thing, a relief? Shouldn't Owen be glad he-

And then, the next second, everything hurts. And Owen remembers.

Owen tries to cringe away from the memories like they're fire about to burn him, which is almost funny. Him, Owen, ever the realist, to whom nothing is more important than the truth. This he doesn't want to know.

But the images come anyway. A warehouse, talk of blueprints, a feather, black shoes.

_Curt Mega, you're going to be the death of me._

_No, I'd never let you down!_

He remembers lying on concrete, bruised and broken in all places, his blood pooling around him, and pain with every breath he manages to take.

A new kind of pain takes over then as Owen finally understands. He isn't dead after all.  
His eyes snap open.

-

The next days (or hours, or weeks maybe, Owen doesn't exactly know), Owen learns many new things.

He isn't dead, but he might as well be. That's the most important one, the one he learns over and over again every time he wakes up. The rest, those things his hosts (that's what they call themselves. Owen only knows that they saved his life, that he isn't dead but he might as well be. He isn't dead but he might as well be. He isn't d-) are telling him, about all the ways the world is changing, don't sink in as quickly. He feels like Owen from before the Fall (which is what he has been calling the day he should have died) would want to hear what they have to say, agree with their sentiments. But it doesn't really matter. Quite a lot of him bled out of him that day, and now, he's barely a body carrying around a brain anymore. 

He's not dead but he doesn't feel like he's alive either. The only thing that makes him feel alive is an emotion that's very new to him, and very terrifying.

Anger. No, it's not that, it's fury. Owen has never been more furious in his entire life. When he closes his eyes, every time, no matter how tired or empty, he sees a face in front of him.

Owen has never hated before. Then again, he's also never died.

_I'd never let you down._

Owen dreams of Curt a lot. He used to, when he was still alive, but this is different. These are nightmares. And with every day that passes, they get worse.

Eventually, Owen can stand on his own.

Eventually, he can walk and breathing doesn't hurt anymore.

Owen's body heals. But he still hates, and he still dreams.

When his hosts let Owen go, with a firm handshake and a sincere offer of friendship, it's the first time in forever that Owen walks the world as a civillian.

He spends his time alone in a big city whose name he barely even remembers, and he realises something is not right. Something's not right, and this time, it's not him. It's not even Curt.

It's everything else.

Owen realises how the world works quickly, right then. He also understands how it should work. And then, suddenly, he feels like maybe, he is still alive. The thought makes Owen smile. It's not a happy smile and it's not a pretty smile. The rest is history.

-

Meeting Curt for the first time had been easy. From the first time they worked together, it was clear that they understood each other. That they fit.

Getting to know Curt, now that had been hard. Owen didn't want to be friends with a partner from another agency. It simply wasn't the right business for friendship, for getting attached. Not that Curt understood that, not that he didn't lure him in anyway, always with that cocky smirk on his face.

And, well. After that, falling for Curt had been the easiest thing in the entire world, as simple as breathing.

But breathing had been very hard to relearn, and in the end, unknowing Curt had probably been the hardest thing Owen had ever done.

It cost him much, but when the deadliest man alive is face to face with Agent Curt Mega, it feels like he's staring into the face of a stranger.

Owen is looking for the fondness he used to feel looking at Curt, the love, even. All he feels though is his bones, which are on fire with bitterness, and all of his scars hurting in a way they haven't in four years.

Curt doesn't recognise him, and Owen wants nothing more than to tear him apart. But he's shot all the bullets from Curt's gun when he aims it at his face (which doesn't make sense. Owen knows the number of bullets. Why didn't-). Owen turns away. There will be other opportunities.

Curt doesn't look good. He seems tired, and distracted, and then there's that beard. The past few years after Owen's death clearly left a mark on him.

Knowing this doesn't satisfy Owen. He himself is nothing but marks. If he gets to leave twice as many on Curt as he has on himself, he still won't be satisfied.

Owen makes a call, and waits for their next meeting.

-

The next time he meets Curt, he calls out Owen's name. Owen hates it, hates the sound of Curt's voice and the pain and the remorse behind it and he hates the fact that it's almost enough to make him get up, tear away his mask and reach for Curt and never let go.

After him and Tatiana are gone, Owen sits up and bites down on his knuckles in order not to scream. He spends seven minutes there, on the floor of the hotel room, and tells himself it's not the same as bleeding out in a collapsing warehouse alone, desperately hoping Curt might come back for him.

He tries to recall the feeling of his hands on Curt, this time only with the intention of causing pain. It had felt good, felt right.

It doesn't satisfy him either.

-

When the moment of truth comes, Curt doesn't understand. Not what happened to Owen, not what he's about to do. There's only confusion in his face, confusion and, well. Hurt.

He's hurt. By Owen's betrayal. It's hilarious, really. It also makes Owen want to gouge Curt's eyes out. Instead, he laughs in his face and shoots his friend. He doesn't turn around when he leaves. He knows Curt is going to come after him.

-

And then they're on the stairs. Owen feels shaky when he aims the gun, not at all like he had as the deadliest man alive. He'd aimed and shot without a moment's hesitation. He had wanted Curt to die. Later, he'd wanted Curt to suffer. And now-

The insecurity in Owen's aim makes him furious.

At the bottom of the stairs, Curt is small and terrified, and seeing him like this only feels good, and nothing else.

_You know you broke my heart._

Owen bares his teeth as Curt tries to talk him off the edge. Tries to reach the Owen that didn't slip and fall and die. After everything, after the torture and hate and bitterness, there's Curt, ready to forgive.

It disgusts Owen, and he doesn't want to lower his gun, step down and get out of this place with Curt beside him. Not even for a second. Not even when Curt, for the first time in their entire history, says out loud what they were to each other. Not even then. His grip around the gun tightens.

_That secret died the night you left me for dead._

Curt's face falls as he finally realises he's lost Owen forever. He turns away. Good. Owen smiles an ugly smile. This is good, this feels right. There's nothing between them that isn't broken, nothing that can be salvaged. There's no love left in Owen for anything, and it's because of Curt.

And then everything happens in a single blink. A bang, and Owen drops his gun and he stares into Curt's face. He sees the decision Owen has made four years ago. It's funny, in a way.

When Owen made that decision, he was alone, abandoned and Curt far away.

And here he is, back in Curt's life, bitter and hateful, but here, and it's where Curt makes his decision.

Before Owen can think of reaching out again, Curt takes the shot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading!


End file.
